Lost Prince
by SwanQueenEndGame
Summary: The Darkling has lost the only person who was truly like him. Like calls to like, what will happen when Alina finally chooses to answer?


**All characters from the Grisha Trilogy belong to Leigh Bardugo.**

 **This is just my take on what could've been.**

She could hear his screams in her head, loud, endless, piercing through her bones making her skin crawl, Alina had never heard a sound more terrifying, more heartbreaking – she hurt for him even though she shouldn't.

Baghra had loved her son, for hundreds of years, from the small dark-haired curious boy to the ruthless ruler who had done unspeakable things for a cause he thought just. Baghra had loved her son when he answered to his birth name and when the name faded and the title prevailed.

Now Baghra was gone and her son's mourns seemed to vibrate even in the smallest particles of darkness inside Alina, casting out the light, burning every last piece of sanity breaking the cage where the Sun Summoner kept her raw power, her untamed beast always so ready to surface and destroy. Light burst out of Alina's hands uncalled, her power overflowing through her like a convulsion, it seemed to want to break her ribs, tore her flesh apart and escape through her chest. Like calls to like and the Darkling was calling for her, his darkness reaching out demanding her light, and the light answered as if eager to touch the shadows, desperate to touch him.

Alina fell to her knees, a sob escaping from her lips as the Sun Summoner disappeared and the scrawny orphan girl she was once used to see in the mirror took her place. Now they were both orphans, one more thing to bond them forever, one more chain forged in blood and sorrow, one more promise.

The light kept pouring out of her, flooding the room, spreading through every corner, pushing against the walls – a wild animal trying to escape, fighting for freedom. She gave up trying to fight it and allowed it to consume her and simply waited for the moment where there would be no more light to be released, the moment where she would be empty, shallow but the moment never came, it was as if there was a bottomless pit inside her as if light only gave place to more light.

Alina's face was suddenly against the cold marble floor, her knees no longer strong enough to keep her from falling, her chest pressed against stone. "Aleksander" she could barely whisper, her voice too weak caught in her throat. "Aleksander" this time it came not as a whisper but closer to a prayer, once, twice and then again and again as steady as the tears rolling down her cheeks.

Alina begged for the screams to stop, for that wounded cry to be silenced but it kept invading her, an intruder spreading havoc. She took her hands to her ears, covering them, knowing that the heat would burn her skin. She took that pain gladly as it was nothing compared to that of her mind being torn apart.

It didn't took long for her to lose her senses and in the next minute she was elsewhere, looking down at a grown man cowering against a golden throne, sobbing like a small child and hurting like no child ever should.

"Aleksander..."

The man lifted his head towards her, he could see her and hear her even if no one else could, this was the bond they shared, they could never be too far, never out of reach.

"You're not really here" he whispered not meeting her eyes.

"Does that really matter?"

He finally met her gaze, his gray eyes darker than usual and wet, she had never seen him cry, she doubted anyone ever did – anyone still alive at least.

"Why did you came Alina?" there was no challenge in his voice, no hope, no expectation just emptiness and exhaustion.

"You called, I answered. Like calls to like Aleksander" she turned her palm towards him and the light came out, slowly this time as if worried it would scare him, it grew in his direction and once it reached him it seemed to caress his skin, to embrace him gently, it seemed to sense the pain and to try to chase it away with its glow. The Darkling closed his eyes and let out a sigh.

"I don't need you pity Sankta" it was clear he tried to fill the words with disgust and disdain but failed miserably, he didn't sound angry or disgusted, he sounded tired, impossibly tired.

Alina's eyes studied him and a second beam of light joined the first, warming the dark-haired boy she couldn't seem to abandon.

"Rest Aleksander, close your eyes and rest..." she allowed her light to wrap itself completely around him while he slowly surrender himself to sleep.


End file.
